For the Love of a Lion
by Laurabeast
Summary: He had to fall out of love before he could see what he had, but sometimes things work out. The rise and fall of Jaime Lannister, while he opens his eyes to Brienne the beauty.
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing. My system doesn't allow for easy editing, so please forgive any mistakes.**

Falling out of love with her

It started slow,

I didn't see.

I was twisted up,

The fault lies with me.

He didn't realize it was happening when it started. He loved her so much he didn't even think twice about tossing that boy out the window for her. Why should it bother him, the only people who mattered in his life were Lannisters. He never gave it a second thought when he stood beside her.

Then she left him for the night, and he laid down to sleep with a smile on his lips. He closed his eyes, and there was that fool not laying broken on the ground. Like the rag doll his mother had given Cersie before she died. He got up, and he drank until that boy left his head, and he never gave it a second thought. Until even she berated him. He swore to commit atrocities for her, and he would he realized. He would be a monster for her.

Once eyes are open

They can not unsee

Waters once sweet

Turn to a salted sea

He would have killed Ned for taking his brother, but not in dishonor. Then she tore the king's last words to sunder without a second thought. She broke her vows left and right, and it made something in him twist in disgust. He knew she could be like this, but now for some reason it seemed like something wrong even in her.

That damn boy had put a sour taste in his mind, and he couldn't shake it. So he ignored it, like he did the whispers of King Slayer behind his back.

Rot sets in

It will not stop

Peels back the skin

And leaves not but loss

Month after month he prayed for his family, for Cersie to save him. He sat in his filth, and felt their barbs, and he believed in her. After six months he stopped praying. Seven he stopped hoping. He didn't stop believing until he killed his cousin, she must have sent him, he killed the man, and it didn't help. They drug him back, and when he saw his death in the mim and piss of his cell he stopped believing in her.

Broken limbs must mend.

Scabs must heal.

A broken heart still beats.

Yet this isn't real.

She took his barbs without even a hint of anger, only when he spoke out against the people she cares for did she bite. She was good. Truly good. He didn't think he'd ever seen that before. That's why he saved her, twice. That's why he told her a secret he had never shared with Cersie, or anyone save his own brother. He broke completely when he lost his hand, and she was his milk of the poppy. He would keep his word to her.

Love a dying flower

It will still die.

Doubt the truth in your heart

And all will see the lie.

It's too late! She said that to him. Fuck her. Yes, exactly. He'd fuck her. He took her beside the corpse of his own son. She couldn't deny him! He loved her! No one but her, forever! He loved her, but he hated himself.

The darkest nights

Still being light

The strongest men

Must always fight.

He held his daughter in his arms when she died. He had never come so close to truly being a father as he had when she said she was proud to be his daughter. He brought a corpse back to his sister, and he felt nothing about that. He wept for his daughter, but the disappointment of his sister rolled off him like nothing.

When the Sparrows sent him away he raged. He was angry, but not like he had been when he was young. Not like he should have been. When his sister said to go he left her with hardly a fight. He went on leading his army mindlessly until Brienne of Tarth barged into his tent. For a moment he almost smiled arguing here at the ass end of the world with her. He made her keep the sword, all but swore his own to her.

Then he threatened to throw a baby over the ramparts of a keep to get his way. Some man of honor he was.

Sons all dead

Hearts grow cold

Tender and unfed

This lie is growing old

She killed them all. He'd promised as much over, and over, but she did it. She killed them all, and his last son killed himself because of her. His brother betrayed him, and now his sister stood before him a stranger. When had it happened? When did he stop loving her. No, that wasn't right, he still loved her. He would always love her. When did he stop being in love with her?

A cup

Most useful empty

An eye

Most keen without predisposition.

He stood beside her, and the heat, the blind need for her had dulled. He watched her now as she ruled over what little she had left. She had turned so many people against herself with selfish actions, and now he didn't know how to protect her. The man seated in the salt throne came to her, and offered her strength.

The idea of that sick, degenerate pirate touching his sister still twisted a knife in his gut. He bore it though, with more grace than he once would have, because it would save her life. The sea dog barked insults at him, and everything in him wanted to bite, but he bore it. What else was there? He had to protect her. It was all he had left of her.

Death is final

We struggle still

Against the end

And hope at will

She came to him, and pressed her lips to his, and he turned away. He didn't want her, but she persisted. No man could turn her away with his manhood in her mouth. He lay with her, and in the morning she let her servant see. Not long ago he would have rejoiced, but instead his first thought was what will she think? They, what will they think? She had made him hers again, but this time he didn't want that.

Unbreakable chains

will be tested

Broken

Oaths or hearts?

He took her enemies to their graves. Defended her to every person who spoke against her. he respected how she could pull them up from nothing, she truly was gifted at strategy. She had to be right, or what did it make him? He brought what mercy he could, even to those who didn't deserve it. He watched his men burn in dragon fire, and fought the hoard. God did they burn, and what did the dragon get for it. A pin prick. He tried to tell her, but she would rather die. How does one protect someone who would rather die?

Then she told him. They were having a baby! Then he threatened her. What was he supposed to think about that? He was so happy, but he had never trusted her less. That confusion was enough, but then they threw the dead man at his feet, and it tried to kill his sister. Everything changed in the moment she walked away from helping them, but he would still follow her into hell.

Brienne of all people, the most loyal woman he knew told him to fuck loyalty. How was he supposed to do that? He argued with her until she tossed him out for it. He would still argue with her when she opened the door again if Tyrion hadn't convinced her first. He'd never been so proud as when they swore their army to the north. For a moment, a flicker of the woman he had loved before. Organizing the expedition north made him feel like the man he wanted to be.

She broke his heart again when she told him of her lies. He barked, berated her, and she called it treason. For a moment her really thought he would be killed by the monster the mountain had become. He almost wanted it, his broken heart felt empty without the last bit of love for her inside it, but he made a promise, to the north, to Brienne. He would keep it. Even if he rode alone he would ride north. He would not break another oath.


	2. Chapter 2

Jaime did all he could to fulfill his promise, everything he could for them. He sat a top his horse while the army of the dead came at them yet again. He could see them all around, his comrades, some might even be his friends. He cut a swath through the dead with Widow's Wail, but they would have to retreat passed the trench of fire or they would all die. He made it with ease, and watched the flames explode around waves of the dead.

The dragons flew high, careful to stay safe while they reigned down fire. The last thing they needed was another dead dragon. This was going well enough as far as he was concerned, until he saw her. White blonde hair on the other side of a wall of fire, he sword slicing through the dead as they swarmed at the unlucky fighters trapped on the other side.

He backed his horse up as far as he could I the ranks of soldiers throwing oil into the army of dead. He took the reigns of another man's horse with no more than a nod. They would burn it all down soon, kill as many as they could before falling back again. He spured his horse forward and the other one followed. The flames licked at their hooves and he crashed into the dead.

"Brienne!" He let go of the horses reigns to fight off the dead. She looked up at him, blood oozing from a wound on her face, she charged in without hesitation. She mounted the horse while he guarded her flank, and they rode together over the fire.

"Jaime." She looked at him, but he could only see how much blood covered her skin.

"You can thank me later, we're riding to the maesters." He lead her through the men, and back towards the keep.

"Why, are you injured sir Jaime?" She laughed, a bit hysterically, and he couldn't help joining her, relief making them punch drunk.

"I've got you." Jaime leaped from his horse to help her from her's.

"I'm fine." She slid down without help, but her knees buckled, and he had to catch her. He put himself under her arm without having to bend.

"You are a stubborn wench." He pulled her inside. The maesters were already hard at work, but Sam came to them as soon as he saw her.

"Help me get her armor off. What happened?" Sam said, and Jaime did as he was told.

"Like mother hens the pair of you. One of them bit me is all. " She let them fuss, Sam looked over at Jaime.

"And you?" He pointed to where blood oozed from an arrow broken off in his armor.

"I'd forgotten." He started to carefully remove his armor, the pain coming back with a vengeance now that he was safe as he could be.

"You were shot, and you're fussing over me?" She scowled at him, but Sam moved between them.

"Alright, alright. It's not so bad, either of you. This will heal, just keep it clean, and change the bandage regularly. You sit, I need to cut the arrow out. I don't think it hit anything important." Sam waved Brienne over to help hold him down.

"That's all that can be done, now get out of here, more injured are coming in. There is a free bedroom on the second floor, near the end. You both need rest. " Sam shooed them out, and they found they both needed a bit of help when it came to the stairs.

"Every part of me aches, I can hardly feel the woumd." Jaime mumbled as they held each other up. They stumbled through the door, Brienne dropped their armor, and they both fell into the bed fully dressed.

"I can't feel my arms." She nodded, they hadn't even closed the door.

"If they thought I was ugly before, wait until they are me with a chunk missing from my face." She leaned up and pulled the heavy furs over them.

"You were never ugly Brienne." He whispered , she turned to look at him, but didn't push it.

"What happened? I never talk to you alone when you came. Leaving couldn't have been easy." He shifted to meet her gaze, a bitter smile on his lips.

"She told me we weren't going, and I fought her. I begged her in every way I know how to keep my promise. Her promise, and when she refused I told her I would keep it even if she wouldn't. She called me a traitor. I've never seen that look on her, everyone else I know, but not her.

"She said she would kill me if I left. She didn't, almost, but she couldn't being herself to make the final move. It doesn't matter, I'm dead to her. I will probably catch up with that notion soon. We all might. I have lived my whole life for the love of Cersie Lannister, and I left her. I don't even know what I'll be if I live through this war. All I have left is the promise I made the north, that I made you." He trailed off, looking into her dazzlingly beautiful blue eyes. She nodded, reaching up to put her hand on his arm.

"I'm sure you'll find some beauty to love, and grow fat and old like you deserve. " She closed her eyes, but he couldn't stop staring at her.

"I don't even know how to love another woman. She has been the other half of my life since I was born." He whispered , she smiled softly without opening her eyes.

"It's not so hard as it sounds." He twisted his arm around to get to her hand, and twined his fingers with her's.

"You might be right." He closed his eyes.

"Why is he getting worse?" Brienne towered over the bed they had fallen into when they were first injured. The bite on her face did well, but he fell to fever.

"It's infected. I've cleaned it, cut out the infected flesh as best as I could. I've given him herbs, and ointments. Everything that can be done has been done, he's getting better." Sam said while the keep hustled behind them preparing to retreat.

"Not fast enough! Go, they'll need you." She took his armor, and stuffed it into her bag, and hung his sword around her waist. She wrapped him in the thick furs, securing him as best she could while leaving his legs free. She lifted him with ease.

"What are you doing woman?" Tormund asked when he saw her carrying him.

"He saved my life, help me get him on the horse. " She tossed his upper half over it, but positioning him would not be easy. Tormund ran around while she half mounted to move his legs into a risk g position. Once they hand him laying over the horses neck she finished mounting, pulling him back against her chest.

"He'll slow you down." Tormund gave his best grizzly scowl.

"I won't leave him!" She rode with the other forces while the remaining few readied to burn the keep once the dead broke through.

Tormund was right, riding double slowed her down, more so when they had to run. She spurred her horse on until the snow blinded her, and it's legs gave out. They fell together into the snow, and as they tumbled down the enormous hill snow avalanched behind them, burrying them. She held herself over him, trying to keep the snow from crushing the air from their lungs. She closed her eyes as the sound of a thousand dead men marched so near to them a few stepped on her back.

She waited as snow melted against her exposed skin trickling down until it froze again. She waited until the sounds stopped, and the air around them grew thin. When she finally dug her way out of the snow, dragging Jaime with her, she couldn't feel her toes, or her hands. She desperately needed a fire, but she couldn't risk it.

She marched until she could hardly feel any of her body. She dug down in the snow to hide the light from the fire, because without one she wouldn't make it, and if she froze to death, Jaime wouldn't stand a chance.

She lit a small fire, and used the snow to shield them from the wind, and hold the heat. She pulled off her armor, all the way down to her shift. She climed into the furs with Jaime, trying to share their heat if she were to try and get any rest.

"Your hands are freezing." He whispered against her neck.

"My apologies, if I don't get feeling back in them I fear I may lose fingers." She shivered, he pulled her closer, rubbing his hand over her arm.

"The advantages of a fever." He sunk against her, unable to keep his head up. She sighed as the blood went back to her extremities.

"I'm afraid I've lost the men, I don't know this land well enough to find them without risking walking into the army of white walkers. I think I can find Winterfell. I hope." She said, he nodded against her.

"No one I'd trust more with my life." He mumbled, they drifted off easily. She hoped they weren't simply freezing to death.

She woke to the chill at her back. The fire had gone out, but they weren't surrounded by the dead. She slid free of the furs, covering Jaime carefully. She built up the fire, and warmed her other clothes before dressing. She pulled out what little food she had, enough for two days at most between the two of them. It would take a week to get to Winterfell. She sat, lifting Jaimie's head into her lap.

"Eat." She whispered when he opened his eyes. He obliged, and she gave him warm water to wash it down.

"Rest." She tucked the furs around his head, and he nodded. She went to work fashioning a sled without eating.

The walk went on with nothing but white. She chewed on bark, and drank warm water while she pulled him behind her. She walked well into the night before the cold forced her to stop. She set up camp same as the night before.

"Do you plan on freezing me every night?" He cringed away from her cold touch.

"If we don't sleep this way we will freeze in the night. I'm sorry." She started to pull her hands away, but he wrapped around her, leaving nowhere to go.

"Don't mind my petty complaints, you're busy saving my life. I think letting you warm your hands is the least I can do." He tucked his head against her chest. She buried her face in his hair, he still smelled ill, but his grip on her grew stronger.

"I promise to get you to Winterfell sir Jaime." She spoke , sleep heavy in her voice.

"Promise me you'll get to Winterfell alive too, because I don't know what I'll do if you freeze to death. You may be the only person left alive who I care about, who cares for me." He let his eyes close as he said it.

"You have my word." She hoped the gods wouldn't break this vow for her. She fed him again when she woke, and kept up her march. The storm has finally cleared, and she knew to some degree where they were. They may reach Winterfell earlier than she expected.

That night Jaime insisted on helping with the fire. He seemed to be feeling better. She melted more snow for water, and stewed it with bark. It would be bitter, but help her with the hunger that twisted her gut.

"I can tell I'm on the mend, I'm famished." He joked, Brienne gave him a bit of the bread, and a piece of the Birch bark.

"Is this all we have?" He looked at the hard chunk of dry bread.

"You'll eat the last of it tomorrow. Most of the food was on the horse. If I hadn't been carrying your armor in a pack we wouldn't even have that much." She had been using her shoulder plate to boil the water.

"What about you? Have you eaten since we left the hall?" He chewed on the bark while they spoke, same as her.

"Bark mostly, a little moss. I'm stewing bark in the water for tomorrow. The bark helps with the hunger pangs in more way than one. " She drained the water into the skin, and put on more.

"Eat the last of the damn bread Brienne. I know you'll insist I'm not fit to walk tomorrow, you'll need it more than me." He pointed at the pack, she shook her head.

"You need to eat, if that fever comes back I can't do anything for you. I can go on bark, I'll be fine." She poured the last of the water into the skin, sipping at the leftover before handing it to Jaime.

"Brienne..." He made a face at her.

"I won't fight about it Jaime. I'm tired, come to bed. " She stoked the fire, and began stripping down. He sighed, and ate the chunk of bread.

"Fine, but you have to let me walk for a bit. I'm starting to atrophy back there." He laid the furs out beneath himself, and held his arms open to her.

"Fine, for a bit in the morning, and a bit before we stop, but I say when you stop, no argument." She laid down beside him, and he wrapped them in the furs.

"At your command I assure you My Lady." He rested his head only inches from her's.

"I'm no lady." She whispered reflexively, he smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her brow.

"More so than you think." He shifted forward, but she turned her face from him.

"Please don't. If... I couldn't bare to be your solace. You're still in morning from an end, now is not the time for beginnings." She said, she tilted her head back towards him. He gave her a small nod, and leaned his brow against her, their breath mingling in the frost, but made no further action.

"Next time." He whispered, they fell asleep just like that, nose to nose. The next three days were spent in companionable silence, the hunger gnawing at them, and draining the energy to talk. He never tried to kiss her again, and for that she was glad. They continued to hold one another though.

"Open the gates!" She had never heard anything so sweet in her life. They practically dropped when they brought them to a bed, no longer in any way uncomfortable sharing one.

"You've a bit of frost, but it should heal. The infection is certainly gone. I'll have soup brought up." Sam left them sitting shoulder to shoulder.

"I feel as if I haven't spent a moment without you since I saved your sorry hide." He smirked, she frowned.

"I am sure I could find somewhere else to sleep." She began the great challenge of getting to her feet. He put his hand on her shoulder.

"I never said it was a bad thing. I don't think I could sleep alone. I'd be dead twice over, maybe more if not for you." He leaned his head on her shoulder when she settled back down, and she let him close his eyes.

"You would have done the same." She leaned her head against his.

"Every time." They didn't mention it, there was no discussion, but they spent nights together no matter where they found a place to lay their heads until the great war ended. Pettier fights arose. They were pulled different directions by obligation, but they knew if they made it they would see each other again.


	3. Chapter 3

The war for the throne eventually ended too, and it left unanswered questions between them. Queen Daenerys Sat in the iron throne at last. The seven kingdoms safe from the white walkers, and united under her. Now she had an even more impossible task set before her. To judge those left behind, and reward the faithful, or punish the wicked.

She felt like she had given audience to half the kingdom already when Sir Jaime Lannester came before her. Her blood boiled at the sight of him, despite the service he had provided in their war. Many lives had been saved by his tactics, and his sword alike. Still he had killed her father, and crippled Jon's half brother among so many other crimes.

"King Slayer?" She looked down her nose at him, and he flinched at the title.

"Your Grace. I came to swear my fealty to the one true queen." He bowed gacefully, and went down to one knee with his sword drawn to swear it to her. She frowned, and waved her hand at him to stop his cow towing.

"I know why you are here king slayer, and I know what you have done. You were an ally to us in the end, but it was not always so. Do I reward you for what you have done most recently, or punish you for your numerous past transgressions?" She looked down at his face, despite his growing are it held a certain charm that she knew had served him well many times. She shifted her focus to the others in the room, many held her confusion. Only the sapphire eyes of Brienne of Tarth held any clarity.

"The choice is yours. I don't pretend to be a good man, but I am trying to be the man some believe I can be." Jaime tried not to let his gaze side over to the woman he spoke of. Silence filled the hall as heavy as the chains he once wore.

"So you say, and would any here vouch for the king slayer?" She tapped her finger on the arm of the iron throne.

"His name is Jaime your Grace, and I will speak for him. He did many things, but he is a man of honor, I trust him, and if not for him I would have joined the army of the dead." Brienne never looked at him when she spoke, but she could feel the heat of his gaze on her back.

"Very well, Sir Jaime Lannester. I name you Lord of Tarth, and give you the hand of Lady Brienne of Tarth. If you have such faith in him he is yours to suffer as you will. You are not to return to the capital without permission from myself, or a member of the small council. Failure to head this order will result in your immediate imprisonment. Lady Brienne I fear I must task you with enforcing this merciful exile. You will leave the capital at sun up tomorrow." Daenerys dismissed them, Jaime rose to his feet to leave, but Brienne stood in shock, unmoving.

"Thank you your Grace, I know it's not exactly a great deal for you Lady Brienne, but perhaps we could discuss it elsewhere." He lowered his tone, and set his good hand on Brienne's shoulder gently. It seemed to shake her out of her stupor, and she turned to let him lead her out of the throne room.

"We are betrothed." She whispered, Jaime laughed into his golden hand.

"Yes, we are, thanks to your glowing testimony. Is it really such a tragedy to be betrothed to me?" He frowned at her standing like a giant statue in the hall.

"What? No, it's just... Unexpected. I will meet you at the stables in the morning. Please don't be late." She marched off leaving Jaime even more confused. she could share a bed with him for over a year at death's door, but the now she chose to calm up. She knew more about him than even Cersie had, why would she make him sleep with this uncertainty over his head? The morning came fast, and Jaime found himself only half awake on his way to the stables.

"I don't suppose my goodbye will be welcome brother. " Tyrion stood at the bottom of the stairs, beside the door. Jaime sighed, he couldn't stay mad at him forever, he didn't have his sister's gift for grudges.

"I will never be able to forget what you did, but the war is over, and I can forgive you. I may never see you again, given my exile, and your lofty standing here in the capital." Jaime put his hand on Tyrion's shoulder, and Tyrion smiled.

"I'm certain I could come visit, Tarth is a lovely place. I'm just happy to see you betrothed to someone you love, maybe even more than our sister." Tyrion walked with him, slowing Jaime's already sluggish pace.

"I wouldn't say I love the wench, but I do respect her, I might even trust her." Jaime chuckled at his own little joke.

"Is that so, if anything she's like a sister to you?" Tyrion raised a brow at him, Jaime didn't laugh.

"You always were a bit slow. You may hate me for saying it, but the mad obsession you felt for Cersei was never what real love feels like. Ah, the gallant Lady Brienne, I do apologize if I held up my brother, but I will miss the pair of you. You are always welcome in my home if you ever need to escape my brother. " Tyrion rose his voice as they drew near the stables. Brienne gave him a tight liped smile.

"Of course, farewell Lord Tyrion. I will keep your brother safe." She mounted her horse, and held the reigns of Jaime's, who pulled them away.

"I am perfectly capable of defending myself thank you. I'm sure one look at you will be enough to ward off most attackers though." Jaime swung up onto his horse with nearly the ease he would have before he lost his hand.

"Oh yes, because most men quiver in fear at the prospect of fighting a one handed old man." Brienne jolted her horse forward , leaving Tyrion to laugh at them as they left.

"I am nearly as good as I was in my younger days, I could certainly best a cut purse, or a bandit. I may even be able to best you these days, if you don't chain me up again." An easy smile found his lips, traveling with her always tickled him so.

"If you insist on this incessant chatter the entire trip I very well may." She kept her horse ahead of his to keep him from seeing her grin.

"Well it is the right of any wife to have her husband at her mercy, but I thought I had at least until the wedding night." Brienne urged her horse into a gallop to hide the way her heart slipped up into her throat when he talked about their wedding night. She kept the gap between them until they had to stop for the evening.

"I am sorry." Brienne whispered when he slid down off his horse, for a moment Jaime tried to look around and find whatever offence she felt the need to apologize for, but he didn't see anything.

"For what exactly?" He frowned, she kept her eyes on setting up their camp.

"I know you don't want to marry me, I know I am not the fairest maiden, and I'm certainly not the beauty Cersie was, but we don't need to be wed in any way but in name." Brienne knelt to light the fire to keep from having to meet his gaze.

"Who says I don't want to marry you? My sister may have loved me once, but in the end I could hardly look at her, let alone love her. Tyrion insists it was never love to begin with, which I suppose could be true. This may not be the wedding either of us wanted, but I couldn't think of anyone else in the seven kingdoms that I would want to marry more than you." He took the bed roll she had placed on the opposite side of the fire, and moved it just close enough to make his point without being indecent. He wasn't sure she would allow him to sleep beside her as they once had, and in this moment he didn't want to press it.

"Nor I." She sat back on her bed roll to tend the fire. Silence stretched on between them for a considerable amount of time given that Jaime loved to hear himself talk.

"Tell me about Tarth. I only saw it once, from a far." Jaime pulled out food for them since Brienne seemed too be deeply focused on the fire.

"It's not like any other place in Westeros. The island is large, and the land is fertile, but people aren't killing each other over who gets to have power. Things are simple on Tarth, I'm sure it will bore you." She poked at the fire.

"I don't know, I've had quite enough excitement in the last years, simple sounds very nice. I'm sure it is beautiful there. Casterly Rock was an enormous grey ruin. The mines left everything dirty, and father never fully repaired a stone that had been destroyed by the dragons. I think he liked making people look at the scars." Jaime sat beside her, and held out the simple food she had packed.

"It is. Outside of the keep is a rise, jagged with rocks, and bramble, but if you know the path there is a small clearing at the top. You can see the whole island from that rise, and far out into the ocean. I used to hide from my sewing lessons there." She stated into the fire, but her minds eye had gone to that rise. For just a moment her hard features softened, and the golden glow of the fire offset the pale blue of early evening. For just a moment Jaime saw how beautiful she truly was.

"Beautiful." He whispered without thinking, Brienne looked at him, seemingly transfixed by her. She had forgotten how easy a lie looked like truth on Jaime Lannister's charming face.

"We need more fire wood." She got up, setting her food aside to avoid his gaze.

"You know, my sister hated you. She never understood why I cared for you. I think she might even have been jealous of the time I spent with you." Jaime picked at the hard loaf of bread with a small smile.

"Why in the seven hells would she be jealous of our friendship?" She dropped an arm load of wood beside the fire.

"Well we are betrothed now." He smirked up at her, but her deadpan look of disbelief made him continue. "I think she hated it because I trusted you, and when I grew to trust you, I stopped trusting Cersie. The contrast your absolute loyalty, and virtue created made it impossible to ignore the cruel, manipulative thing she seemed so fond of. You made me a better man, and that made her angry." He looked down at his scared, and worn golden hand to keep from looking at her.

"I'm not so pure as you seem to think, just because I have more virtue than the politicians you grew up with." She teased, and it earned her a small chuckle.

"I suppose the bar was not set high. Still." He looked over at her, his green eyes finding her's. That one look spoke volumes, if only Brienne knew what it said.

"How did it start, with her?" She spoke softly, giving him the chance to pretend he didn't hear her.

"We were ten years, and three the first time. Everything started off innocently enough. A kiss to see what it felt like to be loved, holding hands with my sister seemed alright. Sleeping in each other's bed to ward off the cold, or the nightmares. She had been angry all day, at some stable master's daughter half a year older for getting wed before her, and we started to wonder about the wedding night. I don't know how it started, but it never stopped after that. How could it? What boy that age wouldn't kill to bed such a beautiful woman. I never even thought it was wrong until she started to worry about father finding out. If I had been anyone else..." He shook his head, Brienne nudged his leg with her own, and he finally looked at her.

"You would have never met her if you were anyone else. I never met the woman you loved, only the hateful shell left behind from years of mistreatment, and shame. If she was ever anything like you, I'm sure she deserved your love once." Brienne held his gaze, and for what seemed like an eternity he simply state stared in silence.

"No, you have that backwards. I was once just like her. I changed for the better, she never did." Jaime got up, and went to his bed roll to lay down. Brienne watched him lay with his back to her. She often wished she were more beautiful, but in that moment she only wished she were more bold. Not that her advances would be welcome, but she wished she could lay with him like they once had, even in the guise of needing warmth.

The next day they made it to the sea, and set sail. Jaime loved to sail, he always had, and it made him quite exuberant. Brienne on the other hand sat near the bow looking at the field of blue that would turn to her little island in contemplative silence. He had enough company to speak with to allow her the time alone. Her father would be so concerned when she came back from the war with her many new scars, and a betrothed. She felt as though she had disappointed him, marrying a man who would never father children with her.

Motherhood was perhaps the only womanly thing she ever wanted. At least if she had married Tormund, as he had offered she could have had that. She didn't love Tormund the way she always would Jaime, but he loved her.

"Brienne? What are you thinking about so deeply over here?" Jaime sat beside her, the first speck of green that indicated their approach to Tarth had appeared while she had been too distracted to notice.

"Tormund." She said without thinking, a dark expression flickered across Jaime's face briefly before he fixed a smirk there.

"The bear fucker? He was an odd man, even for a wildling. We're you two close?" He had hated Jaime, so they hadn't spoken much.

"He proposed to me, twice. Apparently I am quite attractive north of the wall." She said, her eyes sparkled with the laugh she could hardly contain, and a pang of some deep emotion twisted in his gut.

"I'm sorry I kept the two of you apart, would that I could, I would step aside, and let the two of you go about making giant ginger babies." The venom in his voice surprised him even more than her.

"I turned him down twice you pompous ass. I could never lay with a man I do not love, and I am more than capable of ensuring it's not forced on me." She said with a sneer of disgust, he shifted back. He hadn't meant to upset her.

"Besides an interest in men, what is it that would tempt you to love a man?" Jaime meant it as a joke, but the spark of anger in her eyes grew.

"Honor, and compassion are more attractive than a thousand pretty faces king slayer. If only I were your kin maybe you would have some affection for me." She sprung to her feet, setting the small ship rocking slightly, and move to the other side of it. Jaime chased after her, and there wasn't nearly enough room to escape.

"You are a stubborn wench, I was only making a joke! I may be many things, but I have only loved one woman in my life, and it was despite circumstances, not because of them. If we weren't trapped on this boat I would duel you for being such a callous wench." He rest his hand on his sword.

"Why so you could be insulated twice, once by my words, and once by my knocking you to the dirt?" She tried to tower over him, but she didn't have much height on him. He pushed into her space, struggling for an insult, and coming up lacking. Words had always failed him, so instead he closed the gap between them, and kisses her. She shoved him back, her blue eyes wide as saucers.

He smirked, feeling as if he had won, and left her to stand in shock yet again in such a short span of time. She reached up to touch her lips. No one had ever successfully kissed her before, Trumond had tried, but she stopped it. She sat down with a thud, rocking the boat again. He kissed her. Why? His stubble had scratched her, and the momentary warmth of his chapped lips had sent her heart racing.

By the time they got to Tarth Jaime had begun to wonder if he had gone too far with the kiss, given that she had stopped him last time he'd tried. She still hadn't moved, her eyes darting around as if she were trying to plan a daring escape from a cruel captor, and not safe in a ship home. It occurred to him that may have been her first kiss, and he felt a pang of guilt for not making it softer.

Selwyn stood with a small welcoming party on the docks. He stood tall as Brienne, but years had not been kind to him. His blonde hair had turned white, and his fair skin hung lose from his old bones. Still he had a bright smile as they approached.

"My sweet Daughter! Oh how we have missed you! You have a grander song than half the knights in the seven kingdoms by now I'm sure. Come, Meets my wife Mayla." The girl her father hooked an arm around after they shared an embrace couldn't be half Brienne's age.

"Father." The hint of reproach in her voice was met with a jovial shrug. "A pleasure to meet you Mayla, I hope my father is less rambunctious than when I left, or do you still have a new singer every year?" She looked at him again, and for the first time Jaime wondered if her life had been more complex than he imagined.

"Of course there are still singers, and Mayla has her own chambers, I could scaresly imagine you with a little sister or brother at my age. No, stop your judgment, and introduce this fine lad." He looked back at Jaime, who gave a charming smile, and extended his left hand.

"Jaime Lannister my Lord. I have come to speak with you on the matter of betrothal with your beautiful daughter." The way he spoke made it sound as if he had actually wanted to come here as opposed to being sentenced to it. The looks of absolute shock on every face present made him angrier than he'd expected.

"A Lannister wants to marry my sweet Brienne?" Selwyn looked between them waiting to hear that it was some joke.

"Yes, my brother may be inheriting Casterly Rock, but I assure you I have an enormous respect for your daughter. She saved my life quite a few times actually." Jaime put his hand on the small of Brienne's back .

"Well we will have a feast to celebrate! The two of you shall be wed by weeks end!" Selwyn pulled Jaime into his arms for a surprisingly strong hug. He pulled Jaime away, and he didn't see Brienne again until supper where the whole of Tarth had prepared a feast, and joined them in celebration.


	4. Chapter 4

**I found the poems in this part, so they are not mine.**

"This lot seems happy to see me, I never thought I'd see that again." Jaime sat beside her, despite her not giving him so much as a glance.

"They never believed I would marry at all. They would be happy if you were a bastard pig farmer with no eyes and grey scale." She said, looking down at her extravagant food.

"Well you certainly know how to bolster a man's ego. Even still, it is good to be around people who are happy for my presence." He sipped at his wine, it was good, even by his standards.

"I assure you, your ego needs no bolstering." She shook her head. Jaime sprung to his feet, and clanged his cup on the table until the hall fell silent. Brienne looked up at him in what might almost be called fear.

"People of Tarth, you have welcomed me into your home with such immeasurable hospitality. I must thank each and every one of you, because I already have the most precious thing on the isle of Tarth." He put his hand on Brienne's shoulder, and the hall exploded into cheers as Jaime sat back down.

"Please don't do that again. I am not some tool for you to enjoy the shadow of your former glory it's bad enough these people see this as a big joke." He shifted forward to see her, and the tears welling up in her eyes hurt him more than the sword that took his hand.

"It's not a joke, and I meant what I said." He put his hand on her's, and she pulled it away.

"Of course it is, listen to them. Can't you hear it? Brienne the beauty, a cruel name I have never been able to shake." She stood from the table, unable to take another second of it. She hurried out of the hall, and Jaime ran after her.

"Brienne! Brie, stop! King Slayer, sister fucker, gimp. Cruel people have cruel names for people who are better than they ever could be. The people respect you, and if the worst thing they can say about you is that they can't see your beauty than you truly are a great woman." He pulled her into his arms, and she let him because she couldn't stand for him to see her tears.

"You always were good with a lie." She turned away from him, he groaned.

"By all the Gods woman why do you refuse to listen to me. You are beautiful, fuck what any of those people think, fuck anyone who would say anything else. You have eyes as blue as that sea out there, and having seen it I can certainly say you don't lack for a figure. Brie, a frustratingly smart man once told me you have to wear these names like armor so they can't hurt you with them anymore. I'll say it again even if you don't believe me, you are more beautiful than you think." Jaime said, when she didn't turn he stomped back to the feast. Brienne fell to her knees, desperate to choke back her tears. She had never felt more pathetic than that moment, crying over words she had never hoped to head from the lips of a man she loved, and the idea of it being a lie could break her in two the way no sword ever could.

She got up, and cleaned her face. She took a long moment to look out the window, and compose herself. After a the chill of winter even as mild as it is on the isle of Tarth, eased the red from her eyes, and nipped at her through her armor she turned and went back to the hall. She sat beside Jaime without looking at him.

"Thank you." She whispered, he set his hand on her's when she refused to look his way, and this time she didn't pull away.

The next day he was told Brienne had left to see the people at the far end of the isle, and extended an invitation to her wedding personally. Jaime felt a bit slighted. He should have accompanied her, but instead he would mingle with the people in the little town around the keep.

People seemed happy. Not in the way they were in the capital. Here even the poorest among them had beds, and food enough to eat. They didn't whisper hateful things. People here loved the Tarths. Many women gossiped about the upcoming wedding.

"I hear he's a half man, could you imagine the giant with a half man. Good thing he's the one with the cock I'd say." A pack of them giggled.

"That would be my brother actually, though I do only have the one hand if that helps." He held up his golden hand with his most charming smile.

"My Lord!" They all scrambled to curtsy, he waved his golden hand.

"None of that, I'm here to see the splendor of Tarth before my wedding, nothing more. I don't suppose you fine ladies know where I could get a drink do you? I find myself missing my brother, and nothing reminds me of Tyrion quite like a drink." He tucked his gold hand against his chest.

"Yes my Lord there is a tavern only just down the street, everyone drinks there." The tallest of them pointed to a building not far away.

"Thank you, good day ladies." He moved until he stood beside them. "Oh, and perhaps in the future you could hold your tongues where my lady is concerned." He kept moving.

"Do you love her?" The roundest of them asked.

"Of course." He said the words without looking back, and without thought because they were what he was supposed to say, but the question plagued him as he entered the dim light of the tavern. As they said everyone drank there, half as many men were in the tavern as were in the feasting hall. He went to a far corner, and ordered a drink in peace.

He enjoyed the din of bars, he always had, more so in his old age. It was one thing he and Tyrion shared. For a bit he could simply be without anyone looking to him for answers. He drank for the loss of his children, maybe even one for the loss of what Cersie once was to him. The drunker he got the more his thoughts fell to Brienne of Tarth, his future wife.

Did he love her? Did he even know what that meant. He had spilled seed into his one remaining hand for her once or twice. He certainly didn't want to love her when he met her. He loved Cersie, didn't he? He didn't feel the same things for Brienne that he did for her.

He trusted her which he never did with Cersie, he respected her, not as he did the strength in Cersie, but because she was truly good. He would always be loyal to her, no question. He even felt a certain attraction to her. The longer he lingered in that presence the more he felt it. The more he wanted her. Was that love?

"Brienne the beauty! I bet her pretty new husband is a sword swallower for sure. How else could you want to fuck that?" The words found his ears, and Jaime felt the same rage that boiled his blood when people slandered, or lusted after his sister.

"I don't know, she's a nice ass, would be just as pretty as any wench from behind. I'd take a toss at that." Jaime stood, and drew his sword, placing it on the shoulder of the man who spoke.

"I would slit you stem to stern for trying." Jaime leaned in, setting his heavy gold hand on his other shoulder to lean on and snarl his threats in the man's ear.

"My Lord!" The whole table went white as a sheet.

"You know, I've never seen a place where so many people prosper. You love your Lord here because he is good to you, and yet everywhere I look there are people speaking ill off Lady Brienne, my Lady. She saved everyone of you from the armies of the dead. She served with more loyalty than any one of you could even imagine, and you still speak ill of her. She is more beautiful than any woman I have ever met because she is the truest of us all. I never want to hear a word spoken about my beautiful bride to be that doesn't reflect that. Are we clear?" He tapped the sword lightly on the man's shoulder.

"Yes my Lord. We never meant any offense." They all scrambled to speak.

"Good, now that that unpleasantness is done let's have a drink." Jaime bought a round for them all, he didn't want to make enemies here. He stayed and bought them drinks until he didn't think it wise to continue drinking. He stumbled back to the keep, and stripped down before passing out in his bed.

Brienne got home late in the afternoon, the ride had helped her clear her head, and she had finished her invitations. Now all she wanted was to rest in her own bed. She closed her door, and stripped down to sleep in her shift.

When she sat on the warm furs laid out on her bed they moved. She jumped up, and pulled the covers back to reveal a stark naked Jaime Lannister sleeping in her bed. She growled, and without thinking slapped his ass to wake him.

"Ah, what? I'm awake, ugh, and I wish I wasn't." he rolled over without a thought for his modesty. She shielded her eyes, her face turned bright red.

"By all the Gods Jaime why are you naked in my bed?" She turned away from him, and he got up without shame.

"I am to be your husband tomorrow evening if I haven't slept through an entire day, you will eventually have to see me naked though in this case I believe my state of undress has more to do with my drunkenly mistaking your room for my own. How was you trip?" He got up, and walked in front of her to fetch his britches.

"The trip was fine, I'd hoped to rest a bit before dinner until I found you'd sullied my sheets." She frowned at her bed instead of looking at Jaime's war worn, and muscular body.

"I didn't sully anything, have you seen my hand?" He looked down at the bare stump of his missing hand. This grabbed her attention, she hadn't seen him without it since the real hand hung around his neck. She turned, and was struck silent by the sight of him. Past forty years, and he still stood lean with muscles, even with the scar from his severed hand he was so beautiful.

"Brienne?" He smirked, taking a step towards her boldly. To his surprise she met his approach, and reached out to touch his handless arm.

"Does it hurt?" She lifted his arm, and let her hand stroke gently down to where his once sat. He looked down at the soft circles her thumb made against the scar Cersie had never been able to look at.

"Not always, it's worse now, in the winter. Honestly I would rather it hurt than itch. Can you imagine the frustration of an itch you are so close to, but you just can't scratch?" He brought his other hand up to touch her elbow.

"I can imagine." She whispered, her beautiful blue eyes finding his.

"I'm still quite hung over, I don't recover quite like I used to. Would you mind if I laid with you for just a bit? Until you fell asleep, and my eyes could stand the sun again." He looked up at her, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

"I suppose you are to be my husband, and I will have to get used to sharing my bed with you. Even if you do reek of mead." She smiled, he chuckled, reaching up to brush a strand of her hair from her brow.

"I assure you, I will smell pretty as a rose for our wedding night. Now you deserve some rest my Lady. " The way he said my lady made her breath hitch in her lungs. She had never wanted to kiss a man so badly.

"You're right." She laid down first, and held her arms open for him.

"Traditionally I would hold you!" He raised a brow at her.

"It's my bed, do you want in it or not?" She started to drop her hands, and Jaime hurried under the covers.

"Am I going to be allowed to be the man in this relationship in anything?" He said while he laid his head down on her chest. He couldn't say he minded the view.

"We are equals in all things aren't we?" She whispered with her head resting against his soft sandy hair.

"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear, as much as I have." Jaime draped his arm over her waist with a small sigh.

"In that case I'm sure we will be equal in this too." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, making her heart skip a beat at such a risk. When he didn't react she closed her eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep. Jaime tried to keep his word and leave once she fell asleep, but laying there in her arms he felt a peace and security he had never felt before in all his days. He woke with a start to the sound of a knock at the door.

"M'lady, I was sent to draw you a bath before... Oh, m'lord, I am sorry, I didn't know..." She tried to back out of the room while a groggy Brienne scrambled out from under him.

"Tally, stop. Nothing untoward is happening here, go and draw the bath he needs it more than I. We'll be ready for supper I assure you." She blustered, Jaime had to hide his face in her pillow to keep from laughing.

"Very courtly of you, if only you weren't as red as my banner." Jaime said once the bath had been drawn, and they were alone.

"Oh shut up, go get in the bath, you're filthy. I thought you were going to get up once your eyes felt better?" She scowled at him, he got up, his britches hanging low on his hips when he stretched.

"I assure you that was the intention. It's not my fault your breasts are more comfortable a pillow than anything in all of King's landing." He winked at her, and dropped his britches before leaving the room.

"By all the gods no woman should see a man's hairy ass so often before they're wed." Brienne shook her head.

"You love my ass my lady, admit it." He slapped it in the other room, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"You are an ass." She stripped down to try and wash clean with the basin meant for her hands, and face.

"You could always join me, our last bath together was rather lovely. " He called out to her, she bit her lip, a small part of her was tempted to agree. She hurried to finish cleaning before he finished his bath.

"Do you think... Jaime do you think you could ever be happy with me?" Brienne whispered, not sure she truly wanted him to hear.

"I'm already happy with you Brienne. I left a woman I claimed to love because you asked me to. I risked my life to fight by your side. I thought I would be on the wall, or hanging from a rope right now. I have never been happier to be with anyone." Jaime came out to her in a simple tunic while he stood draped in her robe.

"That's not what I meant." She locked eyes with him and they stood in heavy silence for a moment.

"Has anyone told you about the Tarth wedding tradition?" She changed the subject, he went about collecting his clothes.

"I assumed it follows the standard traditions." He pulled his robe closed so he could return to his room to find fresh clothes.

"On most things, though our toasts at the feast are accompanied by a small piece of generally very bad poetry. A few lines will do, but you are meant to write it yourself." She left the room with him, turning to go the opposite way.

"I have a fair enough hand at poetry, though leaving it to the last second would have been embarrassingly comical." He put a hand on her arm as she went to leave.

"I'm sorry if my falling asleep embarrassed you today. I assure you it's the last thing I wanted." She nodded, and walked away. Brienne of Tarth, the most stubbornly tasatern woman he'd ever met.

He sat at his bed well after dark crumpling papers in frustration. Why the hell was this so difficult. Tyrion could do this on cue half in the sack, and he couldn't put together four lines for his wedding. He laid his head back on the chair.

How could this take so much work? Brienne was everything he wasn't. He smiled, and snatched up his quill.

The next day he clutched his scrap of paper as the servents dressed him in finery. He tucked it in his sleeve to keep safe while he stood nervously at the altar. He turned when he heard his bride enter with her father, and his jaw dropped.

She had flowers laced in her hair, and the flowing white dress hung off her pale shoulders, lace draping down her arms. The bead work shimmered in the light of the temple, while a sapphire pendant hung from her neck making her eyes look even more stunningly blue.

He cloaked her in his colours, but he could hardly listen to the words the Maester spoke. Before he knew it they were lead to the feast hall, and he still hadn't taken his eyes off her.

"Stop that!" She swatted his knee under the table.

"What? " He shook himself out of his stupor at last.

"You've been staring all evening. I know I look like fool all dolled up after years of seeing me in armor, but you would think a high born such as yourself would know how to hide his shock." She looked down at her lap, and his eyes followed to the small square of paper she kept folding, and unfolding.

"Shock yes, but I've never been good at averting my gaze from a beautiful woman. How can you expect me not to stare at my wife?" He but his hand over her's before she tore the paper to bits.

"Stop being so kind to me." She looked away, before he could respond Selwyn stood up.

"The night is growing late, it is time for these two newly wed to speak their verse, and head to the marriage bed." He quieted the hall with a wave of his hands, and everyone turned to them.

"Traditionally you go first." She whispered in his ear, he took a large sip of wine for his suddenly very dry mouth.

"Right. I have never been to a wedding in Tarth, so forgive me if I go astray." He stood up, and pulled the small scrap of paper from his sleeve.

"Brienne of Tarth, the most beautiful woman alive, no matter what you think." He whispered the last bit to her pointedly. "My sword is yours, I am you knight, the liar in you light. My armor is yours. I shield you with my best, I am the burden on your chest. My heart is yours, I am the love you win, and the liar you believe in." He held her hands while he spoke, his poem sounded more like an oath now that he spoke it, but what else could he do? The crowd cheered, and everyone drank, but the teary smile on her face was higher praise than any cheer.

"Jaime Lannister, who knew you were such a poet." she gave him a little glare, that only made him laugh. "Love will not betray you, dismay, or enslave you. It will set you free, make you more like the man you were always made to be." She turned red while she spoke, but the words resonated through his bones. He got to his feet, and pulled her into a kiss. It took her breath away, and her hard form melted against his heat.

Her hands tangled in his tunic, threatening to rip it from him if he didn't stop. The crowd cheered and whistled at them, and he finally pulled away, leaving his brow pressed to her's.

"I love you Brienne of Tarth. I didn't even know the meaning of the word before I met you." He whispered, his breath hot on her skin, and sweet as his wine.

"I've loved you since that night on the road, when you saved my virtue. Had I known it was so you could selfishly take it for yourself perhaps I would have known better." She teased, leaning forward to steal another quick kiss.

"Alright, let's get these two to their chambers before the bedding ceremony takes place in the feasting hall." Selwyn called out, and they were mobbed by feast goers tugging them towards their now shared chambers.

They were pulled apart in the endeavor, no man dared touch her clothes, but Jaime struggled to enter the room with his britches on. He shut the door behind them leaning back on it to while he tried to catch his breath.

"I nearly had to decide between keeping my hand, or my trousers, and you haven't lost a stitch." He gestured to the pristine wedding dress, even the flowers were undisturbed.

"I apparently have a more intimidating presence than you husband." She smiled, he let out a low growl.

"You don't intimidate me wife." He took hold of the shoulders on the gown, and yanked it down to her waist . She gasped a blush crept down her breasts as she laid bare before him.

"Beautiful." He whispered, leaning in to trail kisses from her neck to her navel, careful to pay respects to each stop in between.

"Jaime!" She gasped when his hot tongue found her peaks. He did what he could to remove her dress the rest of the way, but it was proving difficult with only one hand. Brienne ripped it from herself, and did the same with his last garment.

They fell together onto the bed, tangled up in one another. Jaime moved down to taste her. Her sweet mewling sounds of desperation were music to his ears. Oh yes, he could make her yield on this one thing. He didn't slip into her Until She was quivering with need. He knew her virtue was intact, and he desperately wanted this to be good for her.

He nearly collapsed when he slid into her. She gripped him so tight he doubted he would last long, so he moved his focus to her lips while he leaned awkwardly on the elbow of his injured arm, freeing his other hand to work her into a daze. He waited until the pinch of her eyes from the discomfort turned to cries of his name before he began to move.

No sooner than he had started did she clamp down on him, quivering, and crying out. He had never seen anything so beautiful, or perfect. He spilled into her far too soon. He collapsed, slipping from her, and this time she lay her head on his chest.

"Is it always like that?" She whispered, he smirked, leaning down to kiss her.

"I think I can do better, the first time always leaves room to discover a woman, and elevate the experience, though it won't always be that good. I am over forty years now. You married an old man." He picked flowers from her hair, and off the bed, tossing them gently at the night stand.

"I'm no young maid. I'll admit I expected much less from a man as pretty as you." She reached down to wrap her hand around his manhood. He groaned, his eyes falling closed.

"If you keep that up I'll have to take you again." The words came out as more a growl than speech.

"I do have a few things I've heard of that I would like to try. I always like to be the best at what I do." She got to her knees, and moved down his body to take him in her mouth. That night he performed more like a young lad than he had in years.

15 years a husband

Jaime stood from their bed, his old bones creaking. He pulled the pot of ointment from the bedside table to sooth the ache from his missing hand. His wife had already awake, likely for hours now, she did like to outshine him. He got dressed slowly, and went down to find out if he had missed the breakfast.

"So you are joining us my husband." Brienne's voice calling him husband still brought a smile to his lips. He turned, and put his hooked hand around her waist, he had long since stopped wearing the golden hand to anything other than royal functions.

"How could I miss seeing your beautiful face any chance I get?" He pulled her into a kiss, her hair had grown longer, and she kept it in a tidy silver braid now.

" Ew, Dad, we're trying to eat breakfast here! " Their youngest made a face at them from across the table.

"Shut your mouth." The twin girls,their eldest, spoke together , one on each side of him.

"Father." "Mother." Their eldest boys both nodded, at fourteen they could not be more opposite in every endeavour.

"Are we practicing with you today?" Their youngest daughter pulled at Jaim's book while she spoke to him. She favoured her father in size, and as such found his fighting style more compatible.

"Yes, your beautiful mother is with the soldiers today, the poor things." Jaime teased, earning him a slap on the ass.

"Your uncle Tyrion should be arriving today so no one will be at sword play after lunch." Brienne said as she took her seat beside her husband.

"Are you happy my love?" She whispered, he rained with hers, and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

"I have never been happier." He whispered.

**That's all folks. What do you think?**


End file.
